


First time

by Needs_to_stop_looking_at_valves



Category: Transformers Animated (2007)
Genre: Communication, Drinking, Forehead Kisses, Gentle Sex, Hand Jobs, M/M, Nervousness, Riding, Valve Fingering (Transformers)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-04-25
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:01:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23840482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Needs_to_stop_looking_at_valves/pseuds/Needs_to_stop_looking_at_valves
Summary: Jazz and Prowl had agreed to save their first frag for their hundredth date. When the big hundred rolls around, Jazz is nervous, because he had been keeping something from his Prowler. How will he survive?
Relationships: Jazz/Prowl
Comments: 4
Kudos: 71





	First time

**Author's Note:**

> This is for @watermelonseverything on tumblr! Hapoy late birthday, REALLY hope this was worth the wait!

"Okay, chill my dude. Low and slow."

Jazz gave a small sigh as he looked at himself in the mirror. He had a date tonight with Prowl, and he was meeting him on earth. This wasn't the first time, and it was most likely not the last. However, Jazz was definitely nervous for this time around. At the start of their relationship, there was sort of a lot of pressure for them to do the nasty, enough to the point where it made their relationship a bit uncomfortable. It did however, open the door for a discussion about the subject. They agreed that after one hundred dates, they'd give it a shot, and not at all before that (think the fourty year old virgin, but literally a million times worse). And Jazz appreciated the weights off his shoulders. So what was the problem?  
Tonight was the hundredth date. The weights were practically thrusted on to him, and Jazz was practically crushing under the pressure. He had failed to admit something rather embarrassing to Prowl. Jazz hadn't once fragged. You tell any bot this, and they'd gasp. Jazz was a striking mech, and it was obvious to everyone (minus himself. He was genuinely under the impression that he was just decent looking) that he COULD get fragged if he so pleased. Jazz just, wasn't the mech to frag on a whim. He had to fall for a bot before he'd even be aroused by them. Aka, demisexual. And while it made relationships genuine, it caused him to be just nervous as all hell, with the imaginary standards he placed on himself. Jazz wiped his face once more, hoping it'd do something about how heavy his shoulders had grown.

It didn't. Jazz groaned as he looked at himself in the mirror yet again.

"Hey. Look. You got it. It's just Prowl."

The problem was, it wasn't JUST Prowl. It was the awkwardness, the words unspoken, and the very simple fact that Jazz very much liked Prowl. Sure, Jazz had found bots attractive plenty. But no one was on the level of Prowl. Prowl was...gorgeous. Small smile that'd light up a room, a voice that was hard as a mountain, while being as soothing as a running stream, and the patience the likes of which Cybertron has never seen. Jazz was attracted to Prowl, definitely. He walked out of the washroom as he sat on his berth, looking at his data pad and skimming through messages. Prowl was so clever in his words, it wasn't hard to make someone like Jazz just fawn over him.

"This...is gonna be a BAD. Bad tune."

How could he live with himself if he left Prowl unsatisfied? What if he made a mess? What if he accidentally hurt him or misread some sign? How could he deal with himself, knowing he'd mess up an opportunity with someone like Prowl. Jazz was usually cool as a clam (that's how the human saying goes, right?), but when stuff went bad, Jazz just had the WORST panicked thinking. It's why he yelped as the silence in his room was suddenly interrupted by his data pad going off. Odd, Prowl usually only called if it was urgent. He accepted the call, and was surprised to see Bumblebee on the screen, rather than his Prowl.

"Hey, Jazzy boy! So, heard you were taking Prowl out tonight."

"Uh...yeah, why?"

"I just wanna know if it's like a date take out, or like, a hit. Because honestly I'd kill to have his room as a game spot."

Jazz sighed as he leaned back. Bumblebee was the smart little shit of Prowl's team, and he just liked to make things as difficult as he could for everyone around him.

"How come you callin' on Prowl's tablet, bee man?"

"He left it on the counter and I figured I'd cause problems. By the way I'm checking out what porn he's got on here, and lemme tell you-"

"BUMBLEBEE!!!"

Bumblebee hunched over and grinned as he heard that all too familiar yell. Bumblebee gave a light wave goodbye as the data pad was plucked from his grasp, Prowl taking up the screen. Slag, Prowl looked good. He even dolled himself up in his fancy armour, AND got himself a good waxing. Jazz was so doomed.

"Sorry about that, you leave anything with him for just a minute and he starts being...himself, really. Hope this didn't turn you away from our date."

"If Bee was all it took, we wouldn't make it past the second date. Trust me, I'm excited."

Prowl and Jazz weren't fancy mechs. For their hundredth date, they decided that just a small picnic type date over at Jazz's home on Cybertron, with Prowl providing snacks, was just enough. It was a small weight off his shoulders, and he couldn't imagine the stress of this being something incredibly formal. Prowl gave a soft smile.

"That's so good to hear. I won't lie, I'm a little nervous."

"Is it because he's gonna give you the ol' pole?"

Bumblebee piped up, only for Prowl to push him out of frame. Course, Prowl was still not left alone, as Arcee poked into the screen.

"Jazz! Hello! I hope you know Prowl has NOT stopped going on and on about the big night! Pleased as punch, this little sweetspark!"

Prowl clearly tried not to be embarrassed, but Jazz noticed his flaring face as Arcee pinched his cheek. Arcee wasn't a carrier, but she could fool you with how motherly she was. She casually took his data pad, Prowl sighing in the background. While Prowl was embarrassed by his team, Jazz found it all kinda charming. Especially as Arcee just went on.

"We helped him pack you guys some little treats! I made you boys a nice servo salad, hope you don't mind I didn't add Beryllium baloney, Prowl doesn't like it, Mixmaster was a sweetie and made you two sandwich cookies! Oh you should see them, he made just the loveliest cream using cyber-grapefruit."

"Seems fitting, given the occasion."

Bumblebee added, grinning at the innuendo that Arcee just didn't seem to get. Too busy going on, it seemed.

"Oh and a few slices of chrome alloy cake! It's a lovely chocolate cake, very rich. Oh! And Ratchet was kind enough to throw in a bottle of Visco, a very nice vintage-"

She was interrupted as Ratchet plucked the tablet from her grip, to give back to Prowl. Jazz could no longer see them, but he heard the scolding he gave them, something about 'leaving the poor mechs alone, can't frag with a processor ache'. Prowl gave a light groan.

"I um...sorry, about that."

"Nah nah, it's all good. I like your buddies. They care about ya, it's sweet."

"You're too understanding, love."

Prowl ALWAYS said 'love' so differently from anything else in his vocabulary. So smoothly, so affectionately. It made a chill run down his spinal ridge, and Jazz was pretty sure Prowl was aware of that. He cleared his vocal processor. 

"I uh...yeah. Listen, I'll see you here, right? In about half a megacycle?"

"Course. Till then."

When Prowl hung up, Jazz let himself fall backwards onto his berth. This was gonna be agony.

\----------  
Prowl was punctual as usual, as Jazz heard a knock at his front door right on time. He had been busy cleaning up the place, and was finally satisfied with the appearance of his living space. He checked himself in the mirror once more, to make sure nothing was askew, and opened the door. Prowl was apparently seeking to kill him. Prowl wasn't JUST in his armour, wasn't JUST perfectly waxed, but was adorned in red, sparkly jewelry. Not enough to make him look like he was a red sports car, but just enough to adorn his frame. Red jewels decorated his helm, his chest, and even at his shoulder armour. His hands were covered in these intricate patterns across his servos. In white paint, a complicated, intricate flower went across both hands. Prowl, in every sense of the word, was stunning. So much so, Jazz gave a loud whistle, not even intending for it. Prowl covered his mouth as he slightly chuckled.

"I take it you aren't too put off?"

"Absolutely not? I just wasn't expecting that. Damn, making me look bad next to you."

"Oh hush."

Prowl gave a light wave as he walked in, Jazz closing the door behind them, and taking the basket off Prowl's hands. Prowl plopped himself down onto his berth, and Jazz noticed the details didn't stop there. The white paint trickled down his inner thighs, a few gems dotting his heels- there wasn't a spot on that body that didn't catch your optic. Jazz realized he was staring, and used that as an excuse to keep a conversation going.

"Kinda find it hard to believe you did that all in an hour."

"Oh I didn't. Bulkhead did it for me. He felt bad he couldn't contribute to the picnic, so he decided to put his artistic skills to use. And I won't lie, I think I look rather nice. I..did want tonight to be special."

Prowl was less prone to being embarrassed, but neither of them were immune to what was to come. Jazz, smile all wide and embarrassed, lifted the basket closer to his face.

"Should we just tuck in, then?"

"Please."

Suffice to say, this wasn't the only thing Prowl would be asking for tonight.  
\---------------

"No. WAY!"

Jazz doubled over in laughter, trying not to spill his drink. Prowl and Jazz had their tanks full of all sorts or goodies, and were only topping it off with drinks. They had been chatting, joking, and eating, for almost two hours now. Jazz's berth was a mess, sheets ruffled, flower petals thrown about (courtesy of Prowl and his ever green thumb), with both of them laying back amongst the pillows. Prowl lightly shook his helm, cheeks as bright as his jewelry.

"No no, I'm quite serious. So you have Sentinel, tossing trash around the street, letting Optimus just scoop it up, right? Well, Ratchet sees this, and starts helping him. He gathers it all together in a bag, and once he ties it up, proceeds to SLAM it right onto Sentinel's face! I can only imagine how many banana peels and egg shells were forced down his intake. He wanted to scold him, but Ratchet, being himself, said, 'shove it'. It was gorgeous really."

"Gee, I wonder why he never told me that story."

Jazz leaned over to pick up what was left of the bottle, and after Prowl signalled he was sated, shrugged, and drank whatever was left, plunking the empty bottle on the nightstand next to him. He wrapped his arm around Prowl, who continued to nurse what was left of his glass. Prowl scooted himself closer to his side, getting comfortable next to others body.

"You know how Sentinel is. Prideful. I can't imagine someone being so vulnerable, ever, honestly."

"It's a tough thing to do, really."

"Course it is,"

Prowl placed a hand on the others thigh, trying to be as discreet as he could as his thumb slowly ran itself up and down the others metal.

"Opening yourself to someone else. Trusting yourself totally and completely. It's something not everyone can do."

Prowl, back in the heyday, wasn't always so smooth in his entry towards interfacing. It was always just leaping onto the lap of whatever spike looked most promising (Prowl wasn't exactly the model of chastity as many would peg him as), but Jazz wasn't just someone. He was someone Prowl genuinely cared about. Jazz gave a slight chuckle, definitely noticing where the hand was.

"Yeah, it's hard. Hard to uh, do."

Though something was mad hard, he'd give it that. Prowl finished off his glass, and after setting it down, used his free hand to hold onto the others chin, finally pressing his lips against the others. Kissing wasn't new, in the slightest, but there was something so different about it this time around. There was that clear expectation that hung over them both. And Jazz, despite crawling on top of the other, wasn't at all ready for this. But Prowl. Oh Prowl. If you couldn't get on top of a mech looking at you like this, you weren't right. Past his visors, Prowl looked up at him with clear want, clear need. His hands roamed from his chin, down his chassis, trailing just above that red arrow that led to what he so desired. Their lips parted, and Prowl gave a soft chuckle.

"I trust you, Jazz. I'd go so far as to say I love you."

Jazz nearly blew a head gasket as Prowl parted his legs, and clicked his valve panel open. Jazz hadn't even SEEN a valve up close before. Black derma mesh, dotted with bio lights that glittered like gold. And the brightest, reddest little ruby of an exterior node, only matching his outer decorations. Prowl couldn't help but grin at the other gawking.

"I won't lie, all the staring you're doing is quite flattering."

"I just...you look good."

Prowl tried not to snort, but failed, covering his grinning mouth.

"Oh, I'm with a poet I see. Well, if you really think I look good, why don't you show me said adoration?"

Jazz wanted to. Really. He wanted to please that valve and give Prowl all he deserved. Now Jazz had seen porn and the like, so he had a faint idea as to how this works, but it was like trying to build an apartment after just learning how to build a birdhouse. Though honestly, he'd feel much less pressure from that, than this situation. He gulped, and placed his fingers right onto the mesh. It was soft, just how Prowl looked right here, under him. It somehow made Jazz even MORE nervous. What to do here? Prowl was expecting, and Jazz was frozen. Slightly panicking, he slowly pushed two servos past the folds. It felt...weird. Not bad weird, but different. He thought he was making progress when Prowl snickered.

"Jazz. Really, you don't have to be so gentle. It's sweet, but I can handle FAR more than this."

Prowl told him about his past, and he was completely comfortable with it. Up until now, where these random mechs set the standard up WAY too high. Jazz pushed his fingers deeper (in reality it was as if he was doing nothing at all), and looked for some signal, some sort of sign. Prowl raised a brow, and gave another chuckle, this time sounding almost frustrated. Prowl was patient, but he had been waiting AGES, had many a night where he had dreamed about overloading around those servos. And here Jazz was, just shoving his servos inside him. No massaging of any kind, no stretching, no real fanfare.

"Jazz. I like a good teasing, really I do, but I've been waiting for quite some time. Don't make me beg."

Prowl was propped up on his elbows, trying not to sound so impatient. Jazz's spark pulse was only speeding up, and his hands were not so steady. Jazz nodded quickly. 

"R-right. I got it. I got.."

His mind was blanking. What was happening? Why couldn't he just KNOW how to do this? Prowl knew how to! Was he not enough for him? Was he just wasting the others time? How can he be the mech for him when he can't even give him an overload? Has he been wasting their time? Was-

"Jazz."

Prowl had the other's face in his hands, forcing their gazes upon each other.

"You don't want to do this, do you?"

"N-no! I do, really I do! I just…"

How to say it? How to say 'I can't give you something you need?' Prowl knew something was amiss, so he scowled.

"If I guess, will you tell me if I'm right?"

Jazz sometimes had issues communicating things. Jazz was usually calm, cool, collected, but even the most formidable of bots crumbled under pressure. 

"Are you not attracted to me?"

Jazz shook his helm furiously. That was the furthest thing from the truth.

"Do you NOT like interfacing?"

Jazz shook his helm. He was closer, but not quite. His servos lightly tapped against the others jawline. Then he had it.

"Have...Jazz, is this your first time interfacing?"

Jazz winced, before nodding. He was ready to be scolded, ready for Prowl to just take his stuff and leave his sorry aft. Prowl sighed, arms folded across his chest.

"So...you're a virgin. And you were just going to suffer in silence?"

"I-I just...didn't wanna disappoint you, Prowler. I thought I could kinda...squeak by."

"And you were going to force yourself to be uncomfortable, in hopes of pleasing me?"

"That's...rough way of laying it down, but yeah."

He was seriously ready to be left this time, when Prowl sighed yet again.

"Do you WANT this? Honestly."

"I want you to-"

"I didn't ask you that. I asked, do you want this?"

He knew that look. Face firm, arms folded tightly, chest puffed up like an angry bird. Jazz nodded, albeit slowly.

"I...I do. I really do. I just...sorta dunno how. I'm sorry, I know you're disappointed, I just, didn't want to ruin this."

He felt the other's servo push against his forehead, and as he was preparing himself for a scolding, he was surprised to have heard the others soft, understanding voice.

"Jazz. If you'd like to do this, we can. If you're uncomfortable, I can lead. You didn't ruin this. I'm interested in fragging you, because it's YOU. Not for just my own physical attention. In case you haven't noticed, I'm in love with you. If I wasn't, trust me, I'm aware of other places to handle my needs. Method's far quicker and cheaper than this. But I'm here, not there, am I?"

Jazz opened his mouth to say something, something along the lines of offering to just let the other go to such places, just to make him happy, when he felt the others lips on his chin. He nodded.

"You're...right. You're...here. Okay, I feel you. You lead, I'll follow."

"Thank you. If you're uncomfortable at ANY given point, please give me the respect of telling me. Understand?"

Jazz nodded. The least he could do was communicate with Prowl. Prowl pushed himself up, and motioned for Jazz to switch positions with him. He carefully parted the others legs as he crawled over him, just getting the other used to his physical presence.

"So, I'm really the first?"

"Yeah. I...haven't really cared for this sorta thing. But I really care for you."

If Jazz kept being so sweet, Prowl couldn't guarantee he'd be so gentle. Could you blame him? A mech so stunning, blushing, and spread out before him. So completely vulnerable. It ignited the less tamer parts of Prowl, and with no hesitation, he popped open the others spike panel. It wasn't overly thick, but Prowl couldn't help but whistle, slowly letting his servo trail from the base, right to the head. It twitched in response, and Prowl had to soothe his impure thoughts. What he WANTED to do was absolutely ride the hell out of it, and force Jazz to overload until he was sore. But his darling was so nervous already, best to have his entire trust first. He carefully removed his visors, placing them next to his empty glass on the nightstand. Neither had seen each other without their shades, and of course Jazz gawked.

"I...figured if I showed you I can be vulnerable too, you'd be more comfortable. Is it working?"

Jazz couldn't respond for a moment. Prowl's optics were the size of the moon, bright, wide, and blue as blue could be. Prowl raised a brow at him, awaiting some hint that Jazz was still present.

"Jazz? Any response is valid here. I'M nervous now."

"You're...too much for me, baby. Gonna kill me if you get any prettier."

"I could say the same thing for you, my dear."

Prowl carefully plucked the others shades, revealing optics just as gorgeous as his own (more so, if you asked Prowl), and for a brief moment, there was stillness. Tranquility. Prowl only knew such contentment after hours of meditation in solitude. Yet here he was, completely peaceful, in the arms of this mech. A mech that not only encompassed all beauty, but encompassed all of Prowl's trust. Prowl didn't wish to jinx this, especially as this love was fresh and new, but he genuinely thought to himself, 'this is the one'. It was enough love in his spark for him to dive into another kiss, not even bothering to offline his optics. They couldn't keep the kiss for very long, given how they both started snickering. It was all awkward.   
It was all perfect. Prowl snickered.

"I...haven't felt this strangely comfortable in quite some time. This is...nice."

"Yeah I uh...could get down with this."

Jazz was struggling to keep his head in the game, given the fact that this entire time, Prowl's hand had been stroking his spike, carefully, firmly, using his thumb to apply just the slightest bit of pressure onto his head. It had caused quite a bit of lubricant to coat his spike, and was causing Prowl's hand to make a quick, wet sound. Jazz tried not to squirm, but he couldn't help the heat rising to his frame. With his free hand, Prowl held onto the side of his face, trying not to melt as Jazz sank into him. He wanted Jazz to overload. Not just because Prowl liked feeling hot, thick overload on his palm, but because Jazz deserved it. Prowl lightly pushed down his chin, watching as the air expelled from those pillow like lips, body desperately wanting to cool itself down.

"Prowler I c-can't hold it, I-I'm gonna-"

"It's alright. Overload for me, my darling."

It was mere kliks before Jazz's hands clamped down on the sheets below him, his helm tossed back, and he sang his beautiful song in ecstasy, overloading all over his hand. It must've been quite a long time, given the amount he had been given. Jazz didn't lift his helm up as he attempted to recover, and Prowl was willing to wait. He licked off the remainder from his hand (tasting as sweet as he did, Prowl knew exactly what he wanted next time around), and he tried not to lose it when he saw Jazz's face again. Poor thing was clearly embarrassed, given how his optics averted.

"I uh...hope I wasn't playin' my tune too loud. Or...not loud enough?"

Prowl rolled his optics as he leaned up, kissing his forehead.

"You were genuine, honest. Therefore perfect."

"Not...perfect, really."

Prowl scowled, before Jazz shrank a little, clearly feeling ashamed. 

"I...well, you didn't get your turn. I didn't think this song would be so short."

Jazz was perplexed as Prowl suddenly laughed, softly smacking the other's shoulder.

"Oh, you silly, gorgeous mech."

Prowl swung his leg over the others, held onto the others spike, and fully sank himself onto the soaked, sensitive gerth. Was this a bit much so soon? Yes, but Prowl could only behave himself for so long. Not to mention a face so indulgent? It turned Prowl into quite a glutton. He pecked the others chest, and slowly moved his hips, relishing in how that spike stretched him so. 

"You overloaded once. We aren't done here."

Exactly like his love for the mech, Prowl was nowhere near finished.

"You're going to sing that song for me, well into the night. And I'm going to enjoy every. Single. Solitary. Note."

Every word was met with another thrust against him, and Prowl relished in the other's cries. Not just because Prowl enjoyed his newfound power, but because he saw that gorgeous, genuine smile on the others lips.

What a melody.


End file.
